Aizawa's eyes widen at the severed end of his capture weapon, cursing loudly. Naomasa pulls him back where he moves to slam his foot fruitlessly into the wall. "He's not alone," the detective reminds him, anxiety forming a lump in his throat. "If he couldn't hold his own you wouldn't've brought him here," Naomasa grits out, just as scared as Aizawa is, just as terrified that they'll lose him.
Aizawa turns away from the wall Midoriya had disappeared into, eyes narrowed, furiously scanning their surroundings for any sign of Irinaka's main body. He shouldn't have brought him. Even if Midoriya could beat him it wasn't enough to be here. He shouldn't have brought him —he'd been blind, unconsciously drawing comparisons between the boy and Piper, mistaking one for the other.
He curses himself, frustrated, angry. Piper was dead. Piper was dead. Why couldn't he remember that? Why couldn't he remember he'd failed. Didn't he at least owe that child that much? Midoriya had been dragged into the middle of a battlefield and Aizawa had been the one to do it.
There's no time to berate himself any further as more waves start up along the walls and ceiling, the floor buckling up beneath them before falling away, moving beneath their feet. But, there's something different about this time when compared to the rest—like the walls are moving slower than they had. Rock Lock curses under his breath, "He got Nighteye too, some leader he is leaving us here." His hand immediately finds a wall, wrist twisting to activate his quirk. "Don't complain about the tight quarters!"
It's not too far a tumble, still painful for sure, but it's not long before both Izuku and Nighteye are back on their feet.
"You tripped him on purpose, didn't you?" Nighteye grunts, dusting off his suit sleeve.
"He was targeting Eraser," Izuku coughs, pushing himself up. "Until those drugs wear off he's the only one who has a chance at stopping Irinaka." He glances at their surroundings. They've been spit into another hall, nearly identical to the last.
"It was good thinking."
Izuku wants to scoff as he retrieves his staff from the ground, body aching like a fresh bruise from their tumble. "There really wasn't any thinking involved in it."
"Even so—" Nighteye takes his own look around the area, there's a four-way intersection just ahead of them but nothing more to signal where they might've been dropped. "It's likely Irinaka won't be back for us since he failed to separate Eraser—."
Izuku takes a stumbling step towards the wall, vision wavering suddenly. Beside him, Nighteye does much the same. Izuku pinches his eyes shut in an attempt to ride out the wave of nausea that hits him.
There's a drunken laugh from a little way down the hall, echoing from above them.
"Feelin' tipsy?" there's a hiccup, "Or are ya' completely blasted already?!"
Izuku squints up at the villain through his blurring vision, recognizing the quirk if nothing else. Sasaki Deidoro, quirk: Sloshed. There's another bark of laughter from him, loud and obnoxious. Izuku pushes away from the wall, leaning against his staff to keep himself upright.
When he blinks there's a second person wavering in his vision, dressed like a plague doctor might've in medieval times. He's also holding a gun.
Izuku takes a long, slow blink before he fumbles for one of the smoke bombs at his waist, pulling the pin out with a sloppy flick of his thumb. The effect is immediate.
The hallway floods with green smoke as Izuku takes one stumbling step toward Nighteye and drags them both gracelessly to the floor as a few rounds of gunfire go off.
There's another laugh from Sasaki. "He s're got you!"
"Shut up, will you?" There's a shattering of glass from somewhere up ahead.
Izuku turns his head to Nighteye, unsure where to go from here but knowing they can't stay on the ground.
"Where are you!" The newcomer barks.
The words come out without his consent. "Down here," Izuku blurts out. Beside him, Nighteye replies as well. "On the floor."
Izuku doesn't get a chance to even process his confusion before there's ensuing gunfire and he forces himself out of the way. He rolls to the side, fighting back another wave of nausea as he stares up at the ceiling, clutching at the floor. The smoke wouldn't last forever.
There's a long stretch of silence after the gunfire, interrupted only by the occasional hiccup from Sasaki.
"You'll fail here," Nemoto calls, "Did you know that?"
To Izuku's right comes another involuntary answer from Nighteye. "Yes." Izuku's head whips towards the sound of his voice, unable to see him through the haze. There's another gunshot, bullet cracking against concrete.
Nemoto Shin. The name comes to him suddenly. Quirk: Confession.
The name of his quirk implies its function, but did the hero really believe that? Izuku frowns, slowly rolling onto his stomach and pushing himself up on unsteady limbs. This was a bad situation to be in, sure, but even so, Izuku finds his voice: "Failure isn't an option."
He throws himself to the side again, rolling to his knees. Another bullet ricochets against concrete. "Isn't it?" Nemoto asks.
And Izuku can feel the man's quirk worming at his thoughts, seeking only the darkest truths. But Izuku is convicted if nothing else. "No." Failure here was an unacceptable outcome. There's a shadow of Nighteye within the green, barely visible even with their proximity.
"Tell me, hero," Nemoto tries again, "why is it you're really here?" His quirk wasn't the type meant for combat, but he knew how to use it to his advantage.
Izuku fights desperately against the worming urge, but the answer burrows its way out of his throat regardless, spoken from a vigilante that's long since been dead. "Redemption," he chokes out. It's the same word Oboro had used, the same thing Oboro said he didn't need. There could be any number of implications from the word in the face of the villain.
"Redemption," Nemoto scoffs, "Not even here to save the girl? To kill us? Arrest us? Rather selfish, isn't it?"
"That's right," Izuku grunts, stumbling to the side as another shot rings out.
Izuku can see the game Nemoto is playing, can deduce the way in which he leads the conversation. Heroes were supposed to be good, morally upright, strong. But, heroes are human. Izuku is human. Nemoto uses it as a weakness.
"First time being honest with yourself?" Nemoto asks and there's no power behind these words, but there is behind the next. "Cocky and selfish. Wouldn't you agree?" But the question isn't
directed at Izuku. There's no worming urge lodged in his throat.
Instead, Nighteye answers. "Yes."
And there's a pang somewhere in Izuku's chest in response. It's heavy against his lungs, a familiar feeling of upset—self-hatred— guilt .
"Redemption is a disappointing answer for a hero, isn't it?" "It is," Nighteye grunts.
Izuku's head turns to find Nighteye's shadow in the smoke. His vision wavers with Sasaki's quirk. It's hard to stay upright. His limbs feel weak, nausea crawling up his throat in the absence of Nemoto's power. He finds the wall with his hand, leaning against it for support. Nemoto's playing the long haul for the moment.
There's a flicker of dying starlight, barely-there-stars consumed by the empty void of space. There is truth packed behind the hero's words, but Izuku's heard worse from people he was closer to.
The smoke thins, sinking closer to the floor, dispersing. Izuku and Nighteye lose their cover, but so does their enemy.
A small, oddly shaped projectile cuts a clean path through the clearing smoke, slamming ruthlessly into Nemoto's cheek. The villain stumbles, clutching a broken jaw. Another one takes him in the temple; he crumples to the floor. Nighteye stands to the left of Izuku, brows furrowed with intense concentration where the boy can tell his vision is wavering. Above them, Sasaki is still clinging to the pipes lining the ceiling. "Damn," he slurs, "Finally made 'em shut up, huh."
Izuku grits his teeth, swallowing his nausea. He'd carried Aizawa out of the USJ in a worse state. He pushes himself away from the wall, rushing at the remaining villain, steps still unsteady where his path forward isn't entirely straight. His attack is uncoordinated, but so is his opponent.
He swings the end of his staff up at the villain as he makes to dodge. Electricity crackles where it comes into contact with him. His body tenses, falling away as Izuku takes a step back. A third weighted projectile slams into the man's face as he falls. He can feel the effects of his quirk flooding out of him as Sasaki hits the floor, unconscious. Izuku straightens himself, blinking away the last of his blurring vision until only an uneasy feeling remains trapped in his stomach. He doesn't turn to look back at Nighteye. "Do you still know the way?"
The hero doesn't comment on their words from before, neither does Izuku. It would only be empty reassurances. "I'll need to regather our bearings, but I have a guess as to where we are—"
Irinaka's quirk is getting weaker, Aizawa can tell. His attacks are becoming less coordinated, weaker after only a few minutes. He's making risky moves. He's becoming desperate. It's obvious the drugs are starting to wear off, even so, it's not quick enough.
"Any sight of him?!" Fatgum asks with a shout, taking the brunt of a blow meant for Tamaki.
"Not yet!" Aizawa calls back, dodging out of the way of a rising patch of concrete. He scans the ceiling and walls of the gaping cavern they'd been tossed into, searching for any sign of the man. All it'd take is a brief glance, a momentary loss of control to bring Irinaka out. Aizawa grits his teeth, eyes painfully dry.
There's a curse from Rock Lock as a pillar of concrete shoots out from the wall, raking his side. "Damn yakuza!" he spits.
Behind Aizawa, Naomasa grits his teeth, weapon drawn. They're all struggling to deal with the villain's quirk— ill-equipped and ill-prepared to handle something of this magnitude. Aizawa was supposed to be their catch-all. Where strength failed Erasure was meant to cover the rest of their bases. But Irinaka was an opponent he couldn't see, couldn't counter. His eyes search the ceiling desperately, looking for an opening, an opportunity.
Irinaka won't be able to hold out much longer. It's inevitable that he'll slip up, but the villains from before had made it clear. None of them had to win. They didn't have to beat the heroes. They just needed to stall them long enough to give Overhaul a chance to escape.
Rock Lock's rant continues, even as he ducks under a spike of concrete, "Don't know how to do anything besides hide!"
There's a snarl, barely audible in the chaos around them, but Naomasa picks up on it anyway. His head jerks towards the noise, scanning the ceiling, cast in shadow as it is. The detective shifts back a step, nudging Aizawa. He too gives the area a brief scan, finding nothing.
The time they've been stuck here stretches out before them mockingly. Every second here counts. Every minute could come at the cost of someone's life.
"Bygone assholes!" Rock Lock shouts again, pressing a hand to his side with a hiss. There's another growl that drips from the ceiling.
Aizawa's gaze snaps towards the area, honing in on a shadow of something he can't quite see. "Snipe!" Aizawa barks, catching the other hero's attention as another attack is sent their way. He jumps back, pulling Naomasa out of the way with a flick of his capture weapon.
Snipe fights his way toward them, catching Rock Lock with one arm as he's thrown a few feet back by a similar attack. Snipe stumbles under the weight of the man, grunting from the strain.
"Come out, coward!" Rock Lock yells, righting himself.
"Above us!" Aizawa barks again. There's no time. He could move if they're not quick. "The ceiling! Blow it apart!"
Snipe doesn't hesitate, aim swinging high following Aizawa's finger. There's no specific target, but Aizawa seems convinced he won't need one. With a ringing bang, he fires at the ceiling, bullet latching into concrete. Snipe shields his face with a raised arm. Rock Lock curses at his side, scrambling out of the way.
An explosion rocks the room, knocking Naomasa off his feet. Rubble raining from above them and a thin, smokey dust filling the air, coating their lungs. Aizawa squints past the haze, eyes burning. "There!" Aizawa coughs. His eyes glow a brilliant red, hair rising up from his shoulders. At long last he catches sight of Irinaka, his body half exposed from the explosion, clearly dazed. "I've got him in sight!" Aizawa shouts. His capture weapon whips up toward the villain, preparing to rip him away from the ceiling. His eyes burn from the dust, but he keeps them trained on the villain. "Fatgum!"
The other hero rushes in as Aizawa yanks Irinaka free, caught in Fatgum's cushioned belly before he can make a graceless landing.
Naomasa stumbles to his feet to his left, shaking dust from his hair. He doesn't waste time,
marching towards the villain as he fumbles with the quirk-suppressing cuffs at his hip. He slaps them on the villain's wrists, tightening them. He casts Aizawa a furtive glance and the hero finally blinks. He drops his guard for the moment, letting the others handle Irinaka as he recovers. He rubs at his eyes with a frown as one of the officers begins reciting the villain his rights.
"You alright?" Snipe asks, approaching from behind.
"Fine," Aizawa grunts, pulling out his eye drops, blinking away the excess.
"We wasted enough time with Irinaka," Naoamasa states, stepping back toward the group. "We need to think about splitting up from here," he continues, looking around at the mess of a cavern the villain had left them with. "There's no way to tell which way we came from, let alone which way we need to go."
"Splitting up could be dangerous," Rock Lock grunts, checking his side for blood and finding only a tear in his suit and darkening bruise.
"This raid is dangerous," Aizawa retorts, taking another look at their surroundings. "We knew what we're getting into when we agreed to participate."
Rock Lock scowls. "Splitting up won't do anything but make us easier targets."
Aizawa's dark eyes return to the hero, a barely suppressed glint of red hidden there. "We don't have time to run around down here, splitting up gives us a better chance at finding Overhaul and the girl."
"There's no point in finding Overhaul if we can't beat him," Rock Lock retorts.
Fatgum shakes his head, rejoining the group, followed closely by a nervous looking Tamaki. "The detective's right and so is Eraser," he cuts in, "Movin' together will take time we don't have." He looks between them. "How should we split?"
And with no time to argue it's not long before they've divided themselves into groups, some more begrudgingly than others. "That'll leave you two alone," Fatgum warns, looking between Aizawa and Naomasa.
"We'll be fine," the detective reassures. "With Irinaka out of the game there shouldn't be any quirks Eraser can't counteract."
Rock Lock scoffs, "That's what we thought heading in here too. If they get the jump on you it's over, you realize that, right?"
"I'm aware," Aizawa mutters, turning away. It's a dangerous game they're playing, but it's been dangerous from the start. He'd made a mistake, bringing Midoriya here. But regret won't change what's already happened. He squares his shoulders, sending a final, wary glance at where Irinaka's being guarded, quirk-suppressing cuffs locked tightly around his wrists.
"Ready?" Naomasa asks from beside him, voice low. He nods.
The detective copies the motion, turning back to the others. "Good luck everyone," he offers solemnly. There's a chorus of similar responses as Aizawa takes the lead and the rest of the group splits off.
It's harder for Naomasa to keep pace with the hero, but he manages, just barely. Everything for Eri's sake, for Piper's. He's not sure how long they go for before they find their first signs of a fight since splitting.
They freeze at the sight of the unconscious bodies in the corridor. Naomasa approaches carefully, nudging one of them with a foot. When there's no response he bends now, pulling both of their masks off. "Nemoto and Sasaki..." he trails off, looking towards Aizawa, "Do you think this was Nighteye and Midoriya?" He tries to keep the spark of hope from his voice.
"It's Red Sun," Aizawa reminds him with a glance. "And I'd suggest Lemillion, but that bruise looks like something Nighteye would leave." All together they count a total of three angry red marks on the villains' faces—small concentrated bruising.
"We didn't pass them so they must've gone this way, right?" Naomasa murmurs, glancing down the hall, "If Nighteye's got this place memorized like I think he does then we must be going the right way."
"If we move fast enough we might be able to catch up with them." Aizawa turns to the detective. "Will you be able to keep up?"
Naomasa gives him a determined nod. "I'll have to."
They wander the halls at a jog, Nighteye seems to know where he's going and there's little Izuku can do besides follow behind. The hero was right in his theory about Irinaka not coming back for them. But it worries Izuku to know he's still trailing the rest of their group.
They were shedding allies at a rate that only Izuku seemed to be wary of. The main group was down to only four licensed heroes now, a hero student, and a handful of police armed with only the guns at their waists. And that was only if none of the others had been separated.
He's not sure how long they run, how many minutes are wasted in pursuit of an unknown destination. The heavy thud, thud, thud of his boots falls in time with the pounding of his heart.
And there, after what seems like hours, is the sound of shouting, barely audible from where they are. They can't make out any words, but it's clear that some sort of fight is going on nearby.
Izuku's eyes widen; they pick up the pace. "That's gotta be the others, right?" he asks nervously, feet pounding the concrete in time with Nighteye's.
The hero reaches a hand out, grabbing Izuku's shoulder as they run. He doesn't slow. "It's Lemillion and Overhaul," he says after a moment, voice dark, tone sure.
Fear strikes Izuku like lightning, a song of terror older than the universe echoing through his core. The black hole wanes open, dangerous where Izuku can feel its gravity trying to pull him back. He keeps his pace; hardens his resolve. He hadn't expected to see Overhaul here. Even knowing what this mission was for; even knowing who he was up against. Izuku was just an intern— barely that. His anxieties had told him he would die again at Overhaul's hands. But logic whispered he'd barely need to fight because he wasn't Piper here. He was just a boy with a hero name he'd yet to grow into.
Red Sun.
Reo had told him red giants were stars nearing the end of their life. Large and bright and rapidly burning through what little is left of their fuel, doomed to die out in a single, violent supernova. It'd been one of their late night talks, one where Izuku did very little of the talking. The name Red Sun feels fitting in that moment, where he can feel the beginnings of that collapsing star. The fear he feels— the terror. A push and a pull. Rage and horror and everything in between because, despite the odds, the logic that claimed he would not find Overhaul here had made itself a liar.
The wall in front of them explodes outwards, a large, jagged spike of earth piercing through the hall. Nighteye yanks him back by the collar, pulling him out of its path. Izuku pants, heart pounding wildly as the spike retracts itself, leaving in its wake rubble and dust and a gaping hole into what can only be described as a battlefield. There's the sound of voices from inside, shouts, words clear now that they're so close.
Overhaul's voice.
Izuku hasn't heard it since the night he died. One encounter was all it took to engrain it in his memory.
In his chest, Izuku's heart continues to pound, reminding him that this is real, that he's alive, that he has to keep it that way.
Nighteye leaps through first, Izuku soon after him, just in time to see Lemillion fling who looks like Chronos into Overhaul. They knock heads and Overhaul's mask does little to prevent his nose from breaking beneath the force of the collision. He staggers back, ungloved hand holding onto his mask, clutching at his face as Chronos slumps to the floor. Overhaul's glare is a deadly thing. It's more than enough to root Izuku in his steps.
Nighteye is the first of them to make his presence known, high-density stamp slamming brutally into Overhaul's cheek, giving him little time to recover in the wake of Lemillion's attack. The villain stumbles to the side, the ground spiking out around him in a near-automated form of defense.
Part of Izuku wants to cower and flee, to run and never stop running. But his eyes catch on Lemillion— on the child behind him. And something curious takes place in that moment, time slowing as Nighteye rushes forward, as Lemillion spreads his arms wider, beaten and bloodied but still standing.
There is Eri, her cherry red eyes widened in horror, cape draped over her shoulders, arms and legs still bandaged, dress rattier than it had been, hair longer than he remembers. But he couldn't forget that face, that expression wrought with fear.
Overhaul rushes for the hero. "Eri!" he shouts, rough voice ringing through the room like a command, "Don't you remember what happened to the last person that tried to 'save' you?!"
"Get the girl out of here!" Nighteye yells, dodging past a spike that Overhaul sends the hero's way.
Izuku's finger twitches, the same one Overhaul had once brushed against and something inside him ignites. Izuku obeys. He obeys and he defies the laws of gravity holding him still, defies the fear burning in his chest, defies the cold claws of death at his heels and at his throat and standing before him as it shouts that Eri is the reason Death kills. Izuku rushes forward without a second thought, vaulting over stagnant spikes of rock, ducking under newly forming ones. His teeth are grit, muscles wound tight. His goal becomes a singularity of white and vermillion. Overhaul's voice is lost in the tide of the universe roaring in Izuku's ears.
"Eri," in his own ears Izuku's voice doesn't sound above a whisper, but he's certain it must be louder as her head snaps towards him. He arrives at her side within moments, crouching before her, blocking her view of Overhaul. Lemillion puts himself between them and the villain, another layer of defense. "I need to protect you, okay?" He holds a hand out to her, gentle, kind. Desperation claws at his throat, sun blazing in his chest, burning his lungs. Because Eri is back in front of him. Because she is still hurt. Because she still needs saving.
He watches her eyes flash with something strange before the terror seeps back in with a flicker of a memory. "He'll kill you too," she whispers, barely loud enough to hear.
"He won't." Determination keeps his voice level, sure.
In her eyes there is worry, hope, desperation. She lifts her arm, hesitant to start before a single,
small hand reaches out to meet his. That's all he needs.
"My name is Red," he tells Eri, gently pulling her into his arms. There is chaos behind him, loud screams of defiance from Overhaul that threaten to draw Eri's attention. "Your name's Eri, right?" he murmurs. Red eyes meet green. He smiles. "Let's get you out of here."